My name is Eric Steven Terry. I was born in 1983 to the two people I love most: Marcie Mullins Terry and James Trent Terry. Although my family was considered to be poor by the standards of Powell County, Kentucky I never went without. Mom and Dad always made sure I had plenty of love, good food, clean clothes, and a warm bed to sleep in. They made sure I stayed on top of my school work – no matter how much I hated it – and gave me almost anything I wanted, within reason. Most importantly, they taught me the love of God and the gift he gave us all through his son, Jesus Christ. It is because of this teaching that I can unashamedly say that I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and that he is my savior. Because of my parents, I received Christ. Because of my parents, I minister the word of Christ to others. Because of my parents, I am who I am.

Steven-1I miss my childhood. I miss playing video games with my best friend Kevin who lived next door. I miss snow days and playing basketball. Some of my fondest memories can be found in my backyard: football, golf, High Rock Olympics, etc… I was truly blessed as a child. I am blessed, still today.

I miss my dad. On February 17th, 2016 at 11:25 AM father’s life came to an end because of a stroke caused by cancer. I hate cancer. I hate what it did to my dad. I hate what it did to my family. I hate what it is doing to members of my church. I hate that children have to suffer from this stupid disease. I hate that we have still not found a cure – or a cause – for cancer. Too many people have had to suffer for this disease. Everybody is a victim. Friends, family, co-workers, anybody that has to watch a cancer patient slowly drift away should desperately be praying for a cure.

The current task I’m working on – The Nesher Project – is inspired by the life of my dad. Growing up, he was denied multiple times the opportunities to follow his dreams. Epilepsy kept him from playing basketball, and from what I’ve been told, he was an excellent player. Later in life an opportunity to sing – his greatest passion – in front of thousands and possibly launch a career was taken away from him by members of his group preferring to go to the beach rather than perform on the steps of Cinderella’s castle at Walt Disney World. However, with all this being said, I do not dedicate this task to the memory of my dad, but to the strength of my mom who walked hand in hand with him from the moment they were married. Sure, there were some rough times, but she never gave up on him. It was my mom that got him through two years of cancer treatments, even though we were told he only had six months to live. It wasn’t the doctors, nor the nurses, even though they were great, that was able to bring dad along so far. It was my mom. It was her strength and her prayers, and her faith in God that kept him moving forward until his body was unable to move anymore. I hope, and I pray that if you are reading this that you have a mother that is as strong and as loving as the mother that God blessed me with.

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